Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, Boy From the Stars or the Masters Apprentices. Although I wish I could own all the money they earned from that song.

Another post-epilogue digimon fic based on an old Aussie rock song. Well, I couldn't just let Yama-sama die without some sort of fanfare, and this is a particularly appropriate song for him. Lyrics at the end. Go read.

The Boy from the Stars

So this is what it all comes down to. After fighting more digimon that I can remember and travelling through a world I never understood, I've ended up dying on a frontier that is not so strange after all.

I was so proud when I made my first trip to Mars. It didn't go as planned, but it was one new world conquered and everyone was pleased. It sounds so arrogant, saying we 'conquered' this planet. I suppose humans are arrogant when it comes to great achievements. Someone does something remarkable and suddenly we think we run the universe. Well, we've been proved dead wrong once again and the universe has shown us how miniscule humans really are. Yamato Ishida, the man who 'conquered' Mars, is about to die there.

It had seemed a safe enough mission at first. There were three younger astronauts who had been asked to perform a few simple tasks. It was just to understand a little more about the planet's geography. Even though the others could have done it on their own, I was asked to go along too because I'd done it before. The landing, you see, is a little difficult. In a lot of places the surface could be much rougher than it appears from the air. I was supposed to make sure we landed safely.

Yeah, right.

Now the ship is caught in a crevasse, mangled beyond recognition. All four of us know that there is no time for help to arrive. We won't be able to get back to Earth – not alive, anyway. I did manage to get one last transmission back to earth before we moved out of communication range. By the time it comes into range again we'll have stopped talking. Maybe they'll eventually send a search crew to find our bodies.

Ugh. That's just gross. I can just see it all in my mind though, my hair going dull and my skin all pale, eyes gone all glassy...

My imagination is far too vivid for a 54-year-old astronaut. I guess that's the musician in me. I'm musician, even though my musical career crashed less than a year after it had begun. When I think about it, there are plenty of things I'd rather have sung about than just the typical teenage love songs. I mean, I had power then; I could have told people things, important things. All my life I've been so frustrated by others and the way they never understand. I could have used my songs to teach and really made a difference.

I wanted to give people ideas, radical ideas, to shake them out of the mundane confines of society. People said I was a rebel and probably thought that I was shaking people up, opening their minds. But no, that wasn't it. I just did what I was expected to do: be a teenager. Argue with my parents, act like a hoodlum, get screamed at by various girls when I was performing on stage. I wasn't teaching those girls anything. I was a pretty face, that's all.

And yet, I loved performing. I loved getting up on stage and singing my heart out to the audience, even if they were words I didn't believe. Even if half the crowd couldn't hear me because they were screaming so loud. Maybe the lyrics didn't tell anyone what I really wanted to say, but when I sang I wasn't thinking of perfect, innocent, girl/boy romance I got that passion from thinking of what I really wanted to say, hoping that one day I could sing those words too.

Forget what you're told in books and movies. They're not always right. What if everyone did judge things by the way they looked? What if geeks were the happiest people on earth? What if black people were inferior? What if it wasn't such a bad thing to give up hope?

What if love wasn't the answer?

What if love wasn't so wonderful after all? You can't live on love; it won't feed you or pay the rent. What if it didn't solve anything at all? Does love, true love, the stuff that movie characters are all crowing about, even exist?

I wanted people to ask themselves those questions. I wanted them to find their own answers rather than just believing the messages they were fed. I wanted them to ask these questions and make people mad and be able to free other minds, just the way I was trying to free theirs.

I was trying to do that all along; it's why I was an artist, a musician. But to get anywhere I had to first go through the usual 'teen star' routine. By the time the Teenage Wolves had really become a hit I had other band members to think of. We'd been branded as mainstream, teeny-boppers. Nothing extraordinary. Not an in-your-face group who tried to question everything that so many people believed without thought. After all those teen love songs, I certainly couldn't go around asking if love exists at all.

Sometimes I wonder if it was just a big search. Everyone goes through the 'who am I?' phase, but I don't know that I ever found out. It turned into a lifelong search; I kept searching all the way to Mars.

I've never missed home more than I do right now. We're told there are life-forms on Mars, microscopic ones; that's why we were here in the first place. Yet it looks like the most dead place possible. There is nothing but harsh, dull red everywhere I look, at both sides of this tremendous crack. Downwards, though, it gets darker and darker, until I can't see the bottom. Night is coming, I know, but somehow I don't think it's the darkness that's concealing the bottom of the hole.

There are beauties about this place, though. The fascinating rock formations that you come across. The way the thin atmosphere makes the sky look dark, even during the day. And the glorious sunsets and sunrises, our guiding star turning a brilliant blue as it sinks out of sight.

It's good to be here, in a way, although it's sad. I'm a long way from home, but I know I've done something with my life; the proof is right in front of me. I haven't turned hundreds of teenagers into philosophers, haven't taught them to challenge everything put in front of them. I taught Midori and Toshio, though. And in a way, landing on Mars has probably inspired many, many others. I've opened a new door. Opened minds.

I've made a lot of mistakes, though. I brought these three boys to their deaths out here. They blame me for what has happened, even if they don't say it out loud. It doesn't worry me, though. If they need someone to blame, they can dump it on me. We're all going to die anyway.

I stuffed up back on earth, too. I didn't notice things that I should have. Like the way Sora was growing apart from the other digidestined. I still kept in contact with them, Taichi especially. That was particularly ironic, the way I visited Taichi so much. Because meeting him would almost always mean meeting his wife: Motomiya Jun.

But Sora's friendships were falling apart. Ever since Biyomon left she was a different person, shunning contact with the other digidestined. She never really talked to anyone but me - and even that was only in the brief moments she allowed herself to be away from her job. I listened to her and comforted her, but I never did anything else. I should have, though. I should have done something to get her back with her friends. But I didn't, and now she'll be paying the price.

She doesn't deserve to be alone. She understands people better than anyone else I've ever known. If anyone knows who I am, then she does. Right from the day we met in the digital world she had figured out all my problems with Takeru, with my family, with my deep discontent. That's one of the things that made her such a wonderful friend, I suppose: she understands. Hell, she should have been the one with the crest of friendship... but then she wouldn't have had the crest of love. And nothing suits her better than love. She needs somebody to love, though. Someone to love her back.

When Sora first came to me bearing confessions and cookies all those Christmases ago, I thought it was little but another fangirly crush. Granted, she wasn't an obsessive idiot like Jun, but I didn't think it would really amount to anything. I was a little doubtful when she asked me; I mean, I'm Taichi's best friend, I knew he liked her. She told me that it was okay with Taichi, though, and I needed to shake off Jun... hey, it was Christmas. Why not?

But after only a few days with Sora I started noticing things about her I'd never realised before. Just little things, like the way she frowned when she was thinking about something, or the way her hair fell over her face. I found myself talking to her more than ever and realising that she and I had more in common than I had thought before.

She knew what it was like to be alone, even when you're surrounded by people. She knew that frustration. She understood the search to find out who she was. But I had known who she was all along.

Sora was thoughtful, kind and understanding. She was sometimes impatient, but she could control herself. She was a loving person who cared for everyone and everything around her. And she was the girl that I loved.

After knowing Sora, there was no way I could question the existence of love. She loves more than I had ever thought a single person could. What's more, she understands people incredibly well. She knows who I am, even if I don't. She's witnessed so many of my bad days, my mood swings, my moments of despair which few people could watch and still think I was worth the trouble worrying about. She's been through it all and yet she stuck by me.

I do know who I am - I'm someone who Sora, and many others, know all too well. I'm also someone that they love despite that. We may never see each other again, but I'd like to think that she knows I'm happy; that I've found the answer that I knew all along.

I wonder how much longer I've got left before our oxygen. I can't help but think about what I'll look like if anyone comes to look for our bodies. Maybe my skin will be blue from the cold and the lack of oxygen... how horrible. I don't want to be remembered like that. I don't want Sora or my friends or kids or future descendants to remember an image of my corpse, all frozen and shrivelled and blue.

The crevasse is still right there, stretching down into nothingness. What remains of our spaceship is stuck so that I can stare right down into it through this window, on the door. If i could wrench the door open I could just drop right down, falling until I reach the invisible bottom, where no-one would ever find me.

I think I might just do that.

The other astronauts gasp as I rip open the door and slip through the opening, launching myself as far away from the edge of the crack as I can. They probably think I'm mad, doing something like that. Perhaps they're right. Oh well.

That's the sort of person I am. I'd rather die with a crunch than sitting around waiting for sleep to overcome me. I'd rather that my body wasn't found. I'll leap right into its jaws and laugh in its face. I'll leave everything else behind and enjoy this one last moment to be nothing but Yamato Ishida.



And there ends another tale. Here comes the song:

Boy from the Stars

How does it feel to be the boy from the stars
When you're misunderstood and amazed
A minority man who came from afar
To sing you a song… through the haze

How does it look to the lad from the sun
When your eyes can't believe what they see
Driven to tears by the ignorant ones
And you just don't know… what to be

But oh, how you love each day
With every passing joy
Just to know you come from far away
And you're only just a boy

How does it feel to the boy in the sky
When your eardrums are pounding with rage
You're screaming to deafen the ears as they try
To free their souls… from the cage

What does it mean to the man from the land
When they've poisoned the seeds that they've sown
When you're sickened and saddened and bound by the sands
As the child in their minds… has tried to grow

But oh, how you love each day
With every passing joy
Just to know you come from far away
And you're only just a boy

What will become of the lad from the sun
When his shell sinks to the ground
If you ever found out who you really are
Thank God we can hear… what you've found

But oh, how you love each day
With every passing joy
Just to know you come from far away
And you're only just a boy

Just to know you come from far away
And you're only just a boy

© The Master's Apprentices 1974 Yes, Rocke likes old music!